


a time for wolves

by delirante



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, i wrote this underneath that gifset of robb/dany/jon lol, idk i think robb and dany would've gotten along really well, jon's a little jealous, remember when robb asked talisa out he's such a flirty boy when he likes someone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:36:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delirante/pseuds/delirante
Summary: King in the North Robb Stark and his brother, the Hand of the King - Jon Snow, answer a summons from Daenerys Targaryen seizing the opportunity to gain an ally in the fight against the dead. But the Queen's ambitions point South to the Iron Throne and Robb is easily swayed by her unearthly beauty.Jon is having none of it.





	a time for wolves

**Author's Note:**

> gonna have three parts i think

The young wolf is solemn but well-intentioned. They need each other’s help he says in the light of the throne room and as their eyes meet solemnity gives way to good humor, an easy smile and something mischievous in the sideways tilt of his head. He is forward, more so than she would expect from Tyrion’s descriptions of the north men, and she is surprised to find herself amused. He makes no secret of his interest in her - going out of his way to find her alone, following her to meetings with the dothraki and unsullied forces, grinning pleasantly as the foreign syllables pass over his head.

He won’t bend the knee just yet but he has a mind for strategy and she has come to enjoy his company.

His hand is not so easy to read.

They don't get on from the first, she and this Jon Snow. He is a grim, impatient man with a frown carved into his face like the scar above his eye. His words are harsh when he speaks of another king and an army of the undead. She would not have believed but for the King in the North’s horror-struck expression.

Fear is something she can believe in.

Tyrion urges her to keep an open mind. Who but her people had seen her arise unburnt from the flames? Who but her people would believe such a story if told? And yet it is the truth.

She resolves to investigate the matter further. If she is to save this country she must place her trust in its people. It won’t do to have an army of dead men brutalizing the largest of the seven kingdoms.

She asks Robb about it one evening after finally accepting his invitation to dine alone. The mirth drains from his face and she notes the slight tremble about him but before he can answer Jon walks in from the adjoining chamber holding a heavy tome in both hands.

He glances between them, swallowing thickly when his eyes land on her. She blinks, waits for an explanation, gets none.

“We were discussing the Night King.” Robb says, gesturing to the empty seat before him.

Jon nods and approaches the table. “A book of prophecies from your library, your Grace.” He stumbles over the title, hesitant at the implication that he could ever accept her claim.

"Prophecies?” She has no interest in them. She asks only to humor her guests.

“It says there is a song. ”

“Of ice and fire.” she finishes. The red priestess had spoken it underneath her breath but Dany had heard. Jon's reticence evaporates in that moment and he leans forward.

She never took this stubborn man for someone easily swayed by the words of the wind but he has already reminded her of the brother she never met once before. “And what of it?”

He eyes her carefully, then Robb, and continues, “I don’t know if I believe any of this, but it might help us defeat the Night King. There are two prophecies that mention him.”

“Azhor Ahai and the Prince that was promised.” Robb says and she turns to look at him. He smiles glumly. “A red priestess told us it was Jon.”

“Melissandre?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Yes, how did you know?”

“She came here asking me to summon you.”

Dany regrets the words the second they leave her mouth. Robb’s eyes light up with mischief, fear totally forgotten. “So you didn't call me here to bend the knee.”

“I did - you would make a powerful ally.” He raises a tawny brow and she rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to Jon. “I have heard of the prince that was promised. Melissandre believes it is you, but I am told she thought the prophecy referred to Stannis as well. If I believed in such things, it would seem to me that I fit the description better than either of you.”

He thinks it over, mind coming to the obvious conclusion. “You have dragons.”

She nods.

“What else did she say?”

She sighs, swallowing back her disinterest. “When Missandei suggested I might be azor ahai reborn she told us that I had a role to play and then she mentioned you.”

“But - I'm not a prince.”

“Neither is she.”

Dany can’t help but smile at that. She wishes she could have had the kind of relationship with Viserys that Robb has with Jon.

“I don’t believe a word of it, in truth. But I had a vision once. I was in the throne room of the red keep. It was covered in snow and when I walked outside there was a wall of ice taller than anything I’ve seen. People still don’t believe in my dragons if they haven’t seen them, but here they are. If you’ve seen these white walkers who I am to deny it?”

When she’d allowed them to mine the dragonglass on her island Jon had exhaled in relief and he had not frowned at her again. Now, she thinks she sees hope blooming in his eyes. “Well we can’t defeat them without you, she’s right about that.”

“Which is why you should bend the knee.” She says it to Robb, the King she means to bring to her side. If they would just accept it then _together,_ as Jon is fond of saying, then together they might do some good.

Jon frowns and she feels the wheel rolling further away from her.

But it is Robb whose measured voice allays her fears. “How do I know you’ll really help us if I do?”

She doesn't answer at first. Her next words must be perfect. These are not the kinds of men she can entreat with promises of castles or gold. But the North is not what it was, impoverished, least fit to stand against the coming Winter.

In their time here, the King in the North and his brother have learned many things about her. They know to what extent she would go for her people. They know that she considers the people of Westeros hers as well.

They know that she keeps her word. “How long have you been here at Dragonstone? Do I strike you as the type of queen who would lie?”

“No, you don’t.”

There is silence. Jon and Robb regard each other and she can tell a war is being fought between them. Jon lowers his gaze first and Robb stands, his chair scraping against the wooden floorboards.

She sees what will happen next in her mind before he even speaks.

“If I bend the knee here and now you will dedicate yourself to defeating the enemy to the North?”

“As soon as the war in the South is won, yes. You have my word.”

He chances one last look at Jon and starts to bend, but she stops him, extending an arm instead. Yara Greyjoy had done the same when they’d formed their alliance and she had loved her for it.

He takes it, clasping her forearm warmly.

“The north is yours then, my queen.”

“Thank you.” She smiles and looks past him to Jon whose eyes could burn holes in the book on the table. He is unhappy with his brother’s decision.

“Well, brother, you don’t have to be the hand of the king anymore.”

Jon shuts the book closed and makes to leave the room. “I never was.”

\-----

“He thinks the Night King takes precedence over Cersei.”

Dany understands, she doesn’t entirely believe in the army of the dead, but she is certain there is something beyond the wall, something dangerous. “It’ll be easier to defeat him with a larger army. When I take the throne I’ll have all the forces of the seven kingdoms to fight him.”

They’re outside, overseeing the effort to line each weapon in the arsenal with dragonglass. Her bloodriders are excited at the color and texture of their new arakh.

“I think you’re right. He is stubborn. You must understand - I’ve seen them but Jon..."

He pauses, gathering himself. "Jon's the only one who has fought them.”

“You saw them?” She has suspected it from the beginning from his unnerving reactions to the mention of the white walkers but he hasn't confirmed it until now.

“Aye, I did.” He pales visibly and she decides not to pursue it any further.

“I’ll speak with him.”

The smile he gives her is not reassuring.

 

 


End file.
